


Fuel

by EmmyFais



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2521877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyFais/pseuds/EmmyFais
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Thief King succumbs to visions of his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuel

“Out! EVERYONE GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!” The Thief King was having the worst month of his entire life. It had started when he’d accepted a rag tag band of morons into his world. What a mistake that had been. He didn’t need anyone. Adding people to his game only made mistakes easier to make. And everyone that had walked into his cave looking for a shepherd to their flock had failed him. No one understood his motivation.

No one understood what fueled him. What he needed. What his ultimate goal was. Worst of all, no one knew how to do anything that was ever asked of them. They’d almost tipped off the entire palace by then to what he was up to, and he was far away from judgement day just yet. Luckily, the idiots were loyal. Or got their throats slashed before they could actually talk. So while the palace guards were on full alert thanks to them, they didn’t actually know who they were looking for.

But it was still all failure. None of this should have been happening. And all the meanwhile that smug bastard was still sitting on his throne shaking Egypt by the neck. They all worshiped him but all failed to see the fake god before them. It was sickening. And one day he would have that little body in his hands. He would crush it. Bend and break it until the Pharaoh’s throat was hoarse from screaming. 

“Get off of me.” He growled to the woman still trying to paw at him. When she refused to relent he put all of his strength into pushing her away. She stumbled back before falling, picking herself up and then running off. At least she had the smarts to. He wouldn’t have tolerated anything more than that. She was lucky she got away with her life. What did he need whores like that for anyway? 

Or the idiots that were still flooding out of his hideout. Now he would have to find a new place. Why had he been so foolish as to think he needed help? “Stupid.” Everything was falling behind schedule. He’d have to make up several thousand new strategies in order to get on right track. A plan a, a plan b, and then c, d, and e. Because getting caught was easy, and having backups was key. Something none of the fools running with their tail between their legs knew. 

That little bastard. He had the audacity to wear that bloodied gold around his neck. To rule over people that had no idea what his people had been behind. When he had his way, and he would, he would take the rope holding that damned gold and twist it around the Pharaoh’s neck. Tighter and tighter until veins popped. Until blood gushed from his mouth. Until he couldn’t breathe and was blue in the face.

And those scarlet eyes would open wide, watery and begging. Begging him for life. The Thief King sat back, smirking finally, the imagery calming him a little. Yes.

The little false king on his knees. The Thief would put his hand in that ridiculous hair, seize him by it. Rip a few strands out, and then shove him to the ground. And he’d cry. Like a child. Oh no, the thief would not relent. Not even then. 

He’d take out his knife. Make a few quick slashes along that pretty face of his. Under his eye. Along his lips. He’d draw blood and smear it all over his hair and down his shoulders. Over his chest. 

Drink your own blood. Know what it tastes like.  
He’d say. He’d command the man to do it, and he would. Because he’d be scared for his life. He had no courage, after all. He would wane so easily. 

Before the Thief King knew what he was doing, his hand was on his cock, pumping furiously. Pre-cum streamed from the tip, making the glide with his palm so much easier. His eyes were closed tight, imagining the little fool prostrate before him. On his hands and knees. 

Bakura would drive the knife into his spine. The Pharaoh would scream for him to stop. ‘Please, oh please....’ But he wouldn’t stop. He would refuse. He would bite him, leave bruises and marks everywhere. Stake a claim where his people could not. Batter that body and prove his point. And the Pharaoh would continue to cry.

He’d beg and squeal like the pig he was. 

Harder.   
Harder... 

His breathing grew tenfold. The ache in his chest was raw. He was furious. Angry with power and need. Egypt’s little false god would offer him the throne and he’d refuse. No. He didn’t want to rule. He just wanted the man dead. But tortured. Long. And hard. And slowly. Until every last drop of blood ran from his very veins. He’d force the Pharaoh to watch himself bleed dry. To watch every time his knife sliced through his skin right deep into the bone.

“Ngh....” 

What a beautiful bloody mess he would make. And those eyes. Blood red, would watch him with the utmost horror. Oh, he’d watch. Bakura would make sure he’d watch every last thing that happened to him. And his entire damned Court. He’d kill them all. And he’d make the Pharaoh beg for each of their lives, only to deny him. And then make him beg for his. 

And just in the final moments, he’d let up. He’d make the Pharaoh think he was going to give in. Oh, you’ve convinced me you’re sorry. So I won’t kill you...

So long as you bend over. Beg me to fuck you. Hard. Like the little common whore you are. You’re no king. And the Pharaoh would. He’d raise his ass, wanton, absolutely needy for it. And Bakura would enter him. Rough. Hard. The blood would rush. But the Pharaoh would moan as he dominated. He’d pull that hair again. He’d bite his neck and shoulders. His knife would play second part, all over that skin. And just before it was over... 

Then he’d jam the knife into his chest. Pry it open. He’d come so deep inside him. Sully him from the inside. And then tear out the still beating heart and take a bite.

“Gh!!” 

The pleasure. The sight. It was too much. His hand squeezed his cock, the seed rushing forth all over his hand and onto his lap. His breathing was erratic. But it was worth it. 

One day.   
He’d fulfill all of his wildest dreams.


End file.
